


To be filled with light

by beeawolf



Series: Time of the underdog [10]
Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, Meet the Family, just a nice chill time in the countryside friends, the only fic in this series with naught but a mention of BB-8 :(
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-08-03
Packaged: 2020-01-05 02:46:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18357023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beeawolf/pseuds/beeawolf
Summary: “I mean, I know it’s not exactly civilization out here, so...” Poe trails off, leaving Finn with the distinct impression that he was about to apologize for the entire countryside’s existence.“Poe Dameron,” Finn says solemnly, “are you afraid I’m gonna dump you for being an uncultured farmboy?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have thousands of words written for this AU that I never post because I want them to be Perfect...so this is me trying to just share something, instead of sitting on it and indulging my perfectionism. I hope it's enjoyable. It'll have two parts once it's done and really nothing much will happen in either of them.
> 
> Title is from a Mary Oliver poem about trees 'cause that's how we do.

The train ride is maybe four hours long, and Poe spends most of it in fitful sleep, clinging to Finn’s arm and shifting in the hard plastic seat like it’s making him uncomfortable. He’d barely slept at all the night before, had stayed late at the airfield working on some kind of extra intensive repairs on the Corsair until – at least according to Poe – Han Solo actually yelled at him to go home.

            (“He yelled at you?” Finn had said, skeptical.

            “He _yelled_ at me! ‘For god’s sake, Dameron, go home before I kick you out the damn door.’” He beamed. “I got yelled at by Han Solo!”

            “And that’s an accomplishment.”

            “It is!”)

            So now he’s got his cheek pressed into Finn’s shoulder, eyes closed, mouth slightly open, hand tight on Finn’s arm. He gets clingy when he’s tired, like he’s grasping for an anchor, like he wants to make sure Finn’s not gone when he wakes up.

            And Finn – he spends pretty much the whole time just gazing out the window, watching the city slowly painted over with green hills and thick forest.

            He doesn’t remember much about the scenery, back when he and Rey had driven out here from Jakku. It had been this desperate fever dream of a trip, hazed over with hunger and exhaustion because they kept choosing gas instead of food, and driving instead of sleep. He remembers bland, endless highways, and he remembers thinking that Rey had to be keeping the van moving out of sheer willpower because it probably should’ve broken down on them fifty miles ago.

            Mostly he remembers the cold fear in his gut, the sickening worry that maybe they weren’t going to make it.

            But now he’s here, warm and wide awake, with food in his stomach and his boyfriend sleeping on his shoulder, this whole new life he’s built wrapped around him like a shield.

            And so he’s drinking it in. He’s letting himself do that. He’s staring out the window like he’s never seen a tree before, and he knows he must look stupid and he really doesn’t care.

            Somebody’s luggage slides off their seat and onto the floor with a loud _thunk_ at the third to last stop, and Poe jolts awake, digging his fingers into Finn’s arm and blinking wide-eyed at the aisle. Finn gives him a few seconds to get the blank fear out of his eyes, to process where they are, and then he says, “Almost there.”

            Poe’s grip on Finn’s arm relaxes slowly. He sits up and stretches in the cramped space, shakes his head a little and rolls his shoulders, loose-limbed and languid like he’d never been afraid. “I never remember,” he murmurs, leaning into Finn, looking out the window. “I always...I can never remember it this green.”

            Finn _hmm_ s in response. He’s never seen so much woods in his life, or so many wide, wide fields, little houses dotted here and there. It’s beautiful in this unreal way, like a painting or something, and it’s almost enough to quell the nerves in his stomach.

            Poe must sense those somehow, because he glances toward Finn and adds, “Buddy, I’m tellin’ you. He’s gonna love you.”

            Finn’s the one shifting in his seat now. “You don’t know that.”

            “I do,” Poe says firmly. “I do know it.” He’s back to holding onto Finn’s arm loosely, like he’s just on the edge of letting go. Finn reaches with his free arm to cover Poe’s hand with his own, and they sit like that, quiet for a while, as the train rattles onward and the sky slowly darkens to a deep, rich blue.

*

            Kes Dameron meets them at the station in a dusty looking maroon pick-up truck, climbing out and striding over to fold Poe into his arms before either Poe or Finn has the chance to say a word.

            “Hey, kid,” Kes says, and ruffles Poe’s hair, and Finn hears Poe say something vaguely disgruntled, but he hugs his dad tight for a few seconds longer.

            Which is helpful, because it gives Finn that much longer to really _look_ at Kes, this man he’s only ever seen in framed photos on Poe’s bookshelf and the occasional cellphone picture. It’s sort of like looking at a taller, leaner Poe, and when he turns toward Finn there’s that same bright energy in his eyes, only tempered differently. Smoothed out by patience, maybe. He speaks slower than Poe, holds a steady hand out for Finn to shake and regards him with serious eyes and a genuine smile.

            “Good to finally meet you, Finn.”

            “You too, sir,” Finn says, shaking his hand and hoping his smile isn’t too strained.

            “Just Kes. Been hearin’ all about you for ages now,” Kes says, waving a hand in a distinctly Poe-like fashion as he turns back toward the truck. “I’d swear he can’t get three words out without mentioning your name.”

            “ _Dad_ ,” Poe says, his ears turning red as he shoots a quick glance at Finn. It’s cute, really, so Finn smiles at him, and Poe seems to relax.

            “Only tellin’ the truth,” Kes says, measured but amused. 

            There’s a moment of awkwardness when they reach the truck, during which Finn fervently hopes nobody’s going to expect him to sit in the passenger’s seat. But then Poe hops easily into the back seat and holds out his hand like a chivalrous Disney prince to help Finn climb up in alongside him. It’s cramped enough that their thighs are pressed together, and the single backpack they’d brought between the two of them just barely fits between Finn’s foot and the door.

            There’s a slight chill with the windows down, the air cool and smelling faintly of rain as the truck rumbles away from the train station. Poe’s shaking his leg in his usual nervous-energy sort of way, so Finn rests his hand lightly on his knee and watches him slowly settle: grounding Poe Dameron is a sort of superpower he never gets tired of using.

            “When’re you gonna bring that dog of yours out here?” Kes asks as the road begins to narrow, curving past farmhouses and barns and what look like wheatfields. Everything is so spread out, so wide open and quiet, no city noise, just crickets and the rush of air through the open windows. 

            Poe sighs next to Finn. “Soon as they let me take him on a train,” he replies wistfully. BB-8 is staying with Snap and Karé, an arrangement they’ve apparently made before, although you wouldn’t know it by the sheer misery on Poe’s face as he left BB happily chewing a bone in their living room.

            “I told you about the car,” Kes says, and Poe frowns.

            “And I told you I’m okay,” he says.

            “It’s old, sure, but it runs just fine. Wouldn’t need to pay anything off.”

            “Would need to pay insurance,” Poe answers, something stiff edging into his tone.

            There’s a pause before Kes says, “I could—”

            “Dad –”

            “With what you’re payin’ going back and forth from the airfield –”

            “Dad, I’m okay,” Poe says firmly, and Kes sighs.

            “All right,” he says, and then clears his throat. “So, Finn, you’re an engineer?”

            “Almost,” Finn says, with a quick glance at Poe, who gives him an encouraging smile. “I’m still working on it.”

            “You like your classes?”

            “Yeah,” Finn answers, feeling somehow twelve years old again. “Yeah, they’re – they’re pretty good.”

            “You should see him, studying all the time,” Poe says, and Finn feels his face go hot. “He’s amazing.”

            “I’m just studying,” Finn protests. “Everybody studies.”

            “Not everybody has straight As,” Poe says proudly, and Finn kind of wants to bury his face in his hands.

            “Don’t sell yourself short. Takes somethin’ special to be an engineer,” Kes says, and Poe throws Finn a grin, raising his eyebrows and mouthing, _Told you._

 *

           

            The Dameron family ranch is a hell of a lot bigger than Finn had imagined, maybe because Poe had spent so much time telling him it was hardly a ranch at all anymore, “more of a hobby orchard honestly.” Like he was afraid Finn would get freaked out by a real and actual farm.

            This...is a real and actual farm. It’s a drive-up-a-dirt-road, brake-for-wandering-goats farm, with rows and rows of apple trees barely visible in the growing dark, fireflies glowing in the tall grass encroaching on the driveway. Kes parks them up alongside a white ranchhouse with blue shutters and turns around toward Finn and Poe in the backseat, the truck still running. 

            “I gotta head over to the neighbor’s,” he says, sounding mildly displeased about it. “Those’re her goats and I’m betting she doesn’t know they’re out again. Dinner’s in the fridge if you boys wanna heat it up, get yourselves settled.”

            “Thank you, sir,” Finn says, and Kes pauses to smile at him.

            “Just Kes is fine,” he says.

            “She want help with the goats?” Poe asks, and Kes shakes his head while Finn tries very hard to process the abrupt image of Poe Dameron attempting to herd goats.

            “Don’t worry about it. You get yourselves settled, I’ll be back.”

            He leaves them standing on the front porch, Poe dropping the backpack there and giving Finn a furtive, almost anxious look. 

            “Your dad’s nice,” Finn says. The wooden boards creak under his feet.

            “Yeah, he’s – yeah,” Poe says, half-smiling, lifting a hand to run through his hair. “Listen, I know it’s kind of a lot. The whole...thing.” He gives a wide, vague gesture.

            Finn furrows his brow. “What thing?”

            Poe frowns and gives this little fidgety motion, leaning his weight from side to side. “I mean,” he starts, and bites his lip. “I mean, I know it’s not exactly civilization out here, so...” Poe trails off, leaving Finn with the distinct impression that he was about to apologize for the entire countryside’s existence.

            “Poe Dameron,” Finn says solemnly, “are you afraid I’m gonna dump you for being an uncultured farmboy?”

            “ _No_ ,” Poe says, looking up quickly, laughingly. “I just – I know it’s different from what you’re used to, and –”

            “So?” Finn says, stepping closer, hands falling to Poe’s waist. “You think I can’t handle a dirt road?”

             Poe blinks, looking up through his lashes. “I think you can handle anything,” he says, so quiet and absurdly honest that it draws something tight in Finn’s chest.

            “You’re so –” Finn says, but can’t find the word. So he lets out a breath and kisses Poe instead, which seems to get his meaning across just fine.

 *

 

            Kes shows up half an hour later with mud on the knees of his jeans, and a sour expression that clears when he sees Finn and Poe at the kitchen table. “I hate goats,” he says, by way of greeting. “You boys eat?”

             “Just started,” Poe says, nodding at their bowls of microwaved chili. “And you don’t hate goats, you used to have like ten of ’em.”

            “I hate these goats,” Kes amends, but he’s smiling as he sits down across from them. “Did you get the tour?” he asks Finn.

            “Yeah,” Poe answers for him. “He made fun of my model plane collection.” Which is accurate, so Finn just grins sheepishly.

            “Well, you’re a nerd, son,” Kes says amiably, and Finn laughs, startled. Poe just rolls his eyes, like this is a conversation they’ve had before.

            “Thanks for the support, Dad.”

            “Don’t mention it. Listen, you boys can stay as long as you like, all right?”

            “Just gonna be two days,” Poe says breezily. “Told you on the phone.” But there’s a fondness in his expression, and it’s not like he was _tense_ before, exactly, but he seems to relax even further now in his chair.

            “I’m just saying,” Kes answers, with a shrug. “Long as you like.”

 *

           

            Later they’re crowded together on Poe’s twin bed, practically nose to nose. There’s a little rocketship-shaped lamp on the bedside table, offering just enough light that Finn can make out the concern on Poe’s face.

            “Sorry it’s cramped,” Poe’s saying, again. “You sure you don’t want me to—?”

            Finn just has to tip his head slightly to kiss Poe. So he does, at length.

            “No,” he says afterward, “I don’t want you to sleep on the floor.”

            Poe’s eyes are a little unfocused. He blinks a few times, and says, “Okay, but—”

            “And no, I’m not gonna change my mind.”

            “Okay,” Poe sighs, like Finn’s the one being difficult. But he’s watching Finn without a trace of worry for once.

            He’s just – looking. Like he’s just happy to see Finn here, and maybe a little surprised. 

            “Hey,” Finn says, and Poe’s answering smile is sleepy and sweet.

            “Hey,” he repeats softly, and somehow manages to press himself in even closer, till they’re all tangled up together in a way that really shouldn’t be as comfortable as it is. He can feel Poe’s heartbeat, steady and strong.   

            The patter of rain outside is getting louder and louder, but there’s nothing else. No traffic noise, no people talking, nothing, and it reminds Finn of some nights in the van with Rey, when they’d pull off into deserted mall parking lots at one or two in the morning and sleep curled up together to stay warm. The strange quiet, except for Rey’s breathing.

            Poe lifts his head off of Finn’s shoulder after a moment and says, “Buddy?”

            “Yeah.”

             Poe hesitates, then says, “Nah. I don’t know.” He’s pushed himself back toward the edge of the bed, an inch of space between them again.

            Finn blinks away his tiredness, leaning up on one elbow. “No, what?”

            Poe half-shrugs. “Tomorrow,” he says. “If it’s not raining...There’s this path through the woods out back. I used to wander around there all the time. It opens up into a sorta clearing.”

            “Uh huh.”

            “And I thought we could...I dunno. Head out there, do a picnic or something.”

            “Yeah,” Finn says, smiling. “Yeah, that’d be good.”

            “Really? You want to?” Poe sounds equal parts hopeful and doubtful.

            “Yeah, really.” Finn studies his expression. “Why wouldn’t I want to?”

            “I dunno,” Poe repeats. He’s settling back down, curls already wild. “Never can tell with you cityfolk,” he adds, an artificial twang to his voice, and Finn snorts.

            “C’mere,” he says, and Poe burrows closer to Finn again, almost but not quite relaxed. Finn strokes a hand up and down his back, and Poe sighs into his shoulder.

            "You good?" Finn murmurs after a while.

            Poe hesitates a half second. "'Course I am," he says easily, and Finn kisses his neck.

            "You miss BeeBee."

            Poe sighs again, and this time it deflates him. He rolls over onto his back, pressed in tight against Finn and staring up at the ceiling. “He’s _fine_ ,” he says, as though to convince himself. “I bet he’s not even missin’ me. But I...”

            “You miss him,” Finn says. “It’s okay.”

            “He’s just –”

            “I know.”  He does. BB-8 is _everything_ to Poe, a miracle and a best friend and a reason for living. It hadn’t taken too long to figure that out.

            Poe’s quiet for a second longer, and then he says, “I used to worry I wasn’t gonna take care of him right. When he was a baby.”

            Finn frowns. “Why?”

            “Because he was – he was so little, and I was so –” Poe shrugs. “I mean, I read up a lot, but I didn’t know what the hell I was doing, not really.”

            “You did a good job, though.”

            “Yeah?”

            “I mean, he’s pretty well-adjusted, right?”

            “I dunno, I worry sometimes. Like how’s he gonna get into a good college.”

            Finn snorts.  “Poe.”

            “I mean, if he doesn’t wanna go to college that’s cool. Save him some debt. But then what? He doesn’t know any trade skills or anything...”

            “ _Poe_ ,” Finn says again, and Poe says, “Yeah,” and Finn says, “C’mere,” again, and Poe does, and that’s the miracle Finn gets in this life, that’s the miracle he gets to perform over and over.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s taken a long time to finish this one, partly because my health has been a little rough...but mostly because I got restless and decided none of what I’d written was good enough, or exactly what I wanted. But then I remembered perfection isn’t a real thing and so, here. An imperfect Part Two, in which nothing continues to happen, but hopefully in a pleasant sort of way.

Sunlight stretches its way in through the blinds in the morning, pouring over Finn, warm on his eyelids until he blinks them open. It sounds like about a thousand birds are outside, all calling in different voices, trilling different songs.

            “Hey,” says Poe, and Finn turns to see him standing in the doorway with a mug in each hand, both overfilled and looking like they’re about to spill over onto the carpet. One black coffee for Poe, one milky and oversweet for Finn.

            “Did you just get up?” Finn asks, even as he looks Poe over and gets his answer. He’s fully dressed, his hair nearly tame, eyes bright. He’s even wearing shoes—beat up sneakers, one coming untied.

            “Sorta,” Poe says, walking over, followed by, “shit,” as he spills a few drops of coffee onto the floor. Finn leans up and over to take his mug and rescue the bedspread in the process. When he lifts his eyes from the mug, Poe’s watching him drink with a dopey smile.

            “What?” Finn says suspiciously.

            “Nothing, you’re just –”

            Finn narrows his eyes. “Don’t say something dumb.”

            Poe pauses, biting his lip. “I wouldn’t say anything dumb. I’ve never said anything dumb.”

            “Uh-huh.”

            “I never have,” Poe insists. “I never would.” He sits on the edge of the bed and sips at his mug sort of half-heartedly, like he doesn’t really need it, and keeps on glancing toward the window.

            “It’s not raining,” Finn observes.

            “Yeah,” Poe answers.

            “Are we gonna go to the woods?”

            A surprised glance. “D’you wanna?”

            “I said I did,” Finn says, giving him a bemused look, and Poe looks almost relieved. “Man, did you think I was — why would I lie to you about that?”

            “I dunno. To appease me.”

            “To...appease you?”

            “Me and my demands.”

            Finn purses his lips. “Poe?”

            “Yeah.”

            “You’re saying something dumb.”

            Poe ducks his head, smiling. “Yeah. I know.”

*

            They go out after a slightly rushed breakfast of toaster waffles, stepping into a world of bright green light, stubborn drizzle prickling at Finn’s skin even as the sun warms it. The grass is wet and soaks through Finn’s sneakers, and the air smells like rain, and Poe moves with an easy grace along the narrow path despite the conspicuous lack of dog at his side.

            It never stops being strange, walking without BB-8 romping along beside them. Finn keeps expecting the jingling of a collar or an ear-splitting _rooooo_ , and Poe keeps frowning slightly like he’s trying to remember something, like something’s slipping his mind and he knows it.

            It’s when the path opens up into a field, tall grass and wildflowers dotted everywhere, that Poe finally stops and says, “BeeBee would love this.”

            Finn takes his hand, an easy motion, almost without thought. “Maybe you should take the car,” he says.

            “Yeah. Maybe.” Poe’s voice is flat.

            Finn studies him, the distant expression, the set shoulders, and asks, “Why not?”

            Poe shrugs. “Been gettin’ along fine without one.”

            Which isn’t strictly true, but Finn doesn’t push it. Whatever reason Poe has, whatever’s got him looking this way — it’s enough. He doesn’t have to defend it, not right now. Not to Finn.

            They keep walking, quiet for a while, Poe holding fast to Finn’s hand.

            And then, “I used to ride the neighbor’s horse here,” he tells Finn abruptly, and Finn almost trips over his own feet.

            “You used to ride a _horse?_ ”

            Poe glances at Finn. “I mean, I wasn’t _good_ at it. She was this, y’know,” he waves a hand, “just this quiet old mare, and I was like ten and she knew the trail so I’d just...”

             “So you’d just...ride a horse?”

            Poe shrugs. “I mean, the neighbor offered. She used to race. The horse, not the neighbor – she was just a nice older lady. I...guess maybe she raced, I dunno, I never – what?”

            Poe looks mildly concerned. Possibly because Finn is staring at him. He’s not entirely sure what expression his face is producing. “Nothing,” he says. “My boyfriend grew up in a fairytale forest and knows how to ride a horse.”

            “It isn’t a _fairytale_ _forest_ ,” Poe says, but he’s smiling now. “And I really don’t.”

            “Are you friends with all the woodland creatures too?” Finn asks, and Poe shakes his head.

            “Nah. Just the bears.”

            Now Finn does trip over his feet, only staying standing because Poe reaches out to steady him. “The — what?”

            “Bears,” Poe says solemnly, though his eyes are dancing. “Made a pact with them when I was seven. I know their secret bear language —”

            “Oh my god.”

            “—learned their secret bear songs—”

            “ _Poe Dameron_.”

            “—went to live with them for about a month when I was nine...that was a rough time, ate a lot of raw fish and berries...”

            Finn punches him in the arm. Poe’s grin is wide and delighted.

            “See, you cityfolk just don’t understand,” he deadpans — or tries to, except he dissolves into giggles toward the end, and Finn can’t really help but get carried along with him.

*

            “Here,” Poe says, and stops them at last before a willow tree, looking out on a quiet clearing. “This is —” He pauses, and Finn knows he’s censoring himself somehow, holding back. “I played here a lot when I was a kid,” is what he settles on. “I used to grab, like, a whole big bunch of branches and swing on ’em and stuff.”

            “Wouldn’t that hurt the tree?” Finn says, and Poe rubs at the back of his neck.

            “Yeah, uh, prob’ly not the best idea I ever had. Used to climb up really high too, scared the shit out of my parents.”

            Parents. So Poe’s mother had been here, decades ago, maybe calling a little Poe down from the twisting branches above.

            “C’mon,” Poe says, holding one hand out to Finn and parting a curtain of willow branches with the other. They step in toward the trunk, and for a moment Poe’s quiet, looking at the clearing through the leaves.

            “I used to,” he starts again, and stops for a second, glancing at Finn. “Sorry, I...”

            “It’s okay,” Finn says, and Poe nods, seems to regather himself.

            “I used to come here after my mom died,” he says. “I’d just sorta...sit here. My dad always said it was her tree? I think she planted it or something. But I would just sit out here, by myself, and I don’t know. Think about stuff.” He shifts his feet. “Is this weird?”

            “This?” Finn says. “Like — what?”

            “Me telling you this. Taking you here, the whole thing. I don’t know, I don’t know how to...”

            “No, man, I like it,” Finn says, and Poe gives him a slow, hopeful look.

            “Yeah?”

            “Yeah,” Finn says, and he wants to say a lot more than that. To explain the warmth in his chest, the aching tenderness he feels for Poe. For the little Poe who climbed trees, and the grieving Poe who sat beside them, and the Poe now standing in front of Finn. The one who’s smiling and soft-eyed and somehow, inexplicably, worried he’s done something wrong. 

            But it’s too big and too real to be described, all of it; there aren’t any words he can shape around how he feels. How it is to be calmed by Poe’s hand on his. To be surrounded by green and growth, to feel willow branches sway as he passes through them, to hear water flowing somewhere just beyond his line of sight. To know there’s food waiting for them back at the house, and enough of it, and a too-small bed they can share.

            He could say, _I never had a place like this. A place to come back to._

He could say, _I like that you have that. I like when you tell me about it._

            “I like it,” Finn repeats instead. “All of it. The whole thing.”

            Poe’s eyes are brighter and more alive than anything in the world. “I really wanted you to,” he says. His voice is rough. A confession. _I wanted you to. I was afraid you wouldn’t._

            “I do,” Finn answers, and he takes Poe’s other hand too, lifts it away from where it’s picking at the hem of his shirt, and he feels a little silly but he holds onto Poe and holds onto him and Poe looks at Finn like he’s seeing something brilliant and new.

            And it feels that way, when Poe kisses him, even though Poe’s probably kissed him hundreds of times before.

            It still feels that way: brilliant and new.

*

*

*

            Later, after they’ve trekked back through the trees, all of Finn’s accrued exhaustion from the past couple of days gets the better of him, and Poe tugs him insistently back toward the bedroom to take a nap.

            “I shouldn’t even be tired,” Finn mumbles, even as he stretches out across Poe’s bed. “I slept last night. I slept the night before that. I —” He cuts himself off with a yawn.

            “It’s fine, man, we’re gonna make you food,” Poe says, gesturing toward the kitchen, where Kes had been washing vegetables when they’d gotten back. He leans down to plant a light kiss on Finn’s forehead, and adds, “You’re gonna wake up to a feast.”  

            Finn drifts in and out after that in a pleasant sort of way, oddly content in his sun-warmed, sore-legged sleepiness. He can hear Poe and Kes from the kitchen now, the quiet clinking of dishes, a low murmur of voices over the sound of somebody chopping vegetables.

            “What kinda car is it?” Poe is asking, in this particular tone that makes Finn think of bright eyes and stubbornness.  Finn blinks his own eyes open, gazing at a faded poster of a fighter jet on the wall.

            The vegetable chopping stops. “Hmm?”

            “The car you were talkin’ about. Is it the Toyota?”

            “The Corolla,” Kes confirms, and the chopping resumes. “You thinkin’ about taking it?”

            There’s a pause, and then, “I’m thinkin’ about my dog,” Poe admits.

            Kes laughs. It’s a bright, warm sound. “Well, it runs all right. It’s nothin’ fancy.”

            “Yeah, well, let Pava at it and see how long that lasts...”

            Their voices trail off, fading into background noise, and Finn closes his eyes again.

            “You picked a good one,” he hears Kes say after a while, low and fond.

            There’s a softer response from Poe, too muffled for Finn to make out.

            And Kes laughs again, and says, “Well, he picked a good one too.”       

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kes Dameron is in fact offering his son [the 1999 Toyota Corolla.](https://www.craigslist.org/about/best/hou/6565526716.html)


End file.
